


Pancakes

by Pennyplainknits



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-10
Updated: 2010-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-06 02:30:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pennyplainknits/pseuds/Pennyplainknits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a snippety ficlet that follows on from <a href="http://pennyplainknits.livejournal.com/17027.html">Location, Location, Location</a>, an AU where John is a realtor, and Rodney hires him to find him a house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pancakes

John woke up surrounded by _Rodney_.

Rodney's blue bedroom walls. Rodney's cosy flannel sheets. Rodney's memory foam mattress and feather pillows. Even Rodney's cats, on the end of Rodney's bed. The only thing missing was the man himself.

John slid out of bed, and rooted around in the strewn clothes from last night's somewhat frantic dash to the bedroom, looking for his boxers. He found them, but his shirt was nowhere to be seen, so he snagged Rodney's, grinning at the equations on it, and went on a Rodney-hunt.

He found him in the kitchen, barefoot, and wearing a fuzzy blue bathrobe He was shaking his hips to some bouncy pop song, standing over the stove and making

"Pancakes?" John asked, feeling a grin break across his face.

Rodney yelped and turned round, spatula still in hand.

"You're supposed to be asleep!" he said.

John took the spatula out of Rodney's grip, moved the pan off the heat, and then kissed him. Backed him up against the counter where the welcome basket still stood, and just lost himself in the taste and smell and feel of Rodney.

"I missed you," he said, after a while.

"Oh," Rodney said, looking adorably flushed.

"So you weren't lying about the pancakes," John said.

" I told you, it's the only thing I can cook." Rodney turned back to the pan and slid the last perfect, golden, fluffy pancake onto the plate, then poured maple syrup over the stack. "I was going to bring you breakfast," he added.

John took a bite of pancake. It was delicious.

"Mmmm," he said, "I could get used to this."

Rodney smiled, that little-boy smile, and said "I hope so. Of course, now you're at Radek's beck and call I might not see you from one week to the next."

John grinned. "I promise I'll come home."

"Home?" Rodney asked, "I don't even know where you live, how's that going to work?"

"Um," John ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck, feeling foolish for the slip-up. "I meant here. I, just, it feels like," he trailed off.

Rodney looked at him, then said: "You're sneaky. You - I wondered why there was a sun lounger. I mean, I never sit outside, have you seen my complexion? But that all-over tan must take-"

John cut him off with a kiss, and Rodney kissed him back, syrup-sticky fingers on his face.

"Want to take these back to bed?" Rodney asked, hopefully.

"Absolutely," said John.


End file.
